Rise of the Fallen
by Shadow-TheLastHero
Summary: It happened so quickly. First seeing a living fairytale, then less than a year later, dead. Then I met the fairytale - Jack Frost - and the other Guardians. It was amazing, seeing what I half believed to be fake in person. I'm Sparrow Fall. Spirit of autumn, defender of innocence, but unable to throw my lot with them. I must be mad to follow fear instead.
1. Prologue

Prologue

My interest was first sparked a couple of years ago. It had been a normal day it seemed, winter already half spent. I had woken up, expecting the same snow-less chill of every winter day that happened in my hometown, so I was extremely surprised as a flake of white passed by my window as I glanced outside. Then another. And more and more until soon a steady snowstorm had begun. My eyes widened in surprise as a layer of white began to coat the ground, my face pressed up against the window. I watched for only a few moments, but it seemed like forever, as I tried to retain every moment of this sight. It was snowing!

Then I heard my mom calling my name. I awoke from my trance and turned around, heading strait towards my closet. I grabbed the warmest clothes I could find – which probably wasn't exactly snow-worthy, but would make do – then ran downstairs, crying out, "It's snowing! It's snowing!"

As I ran into the kitchen my mom rolled her eyes a bit, laughing at my outburst and saying, "It seems like school's cancelled because of it. I guess you're probably going to stay cooped up all day on the computer?"

"Heck no!" I retorted with a faint smile. "I'm going outside!"

Then I went into the cupboard, grabbed a couple of Pop Tarts, and ran out of the kitchen. The only other thing I did was grab a heavy gray jacket I wore almost every day, and ran outside. I instantly noted the sharp chill, even worse than normal, but I ignored it, excitement overcoming the cold. My brother was already outside with a couple of his friends, but all they were doing was talking. So I bent down and began to shape a couple of snowballs, but I had absolutely zero experience in these matters. So every one of them crumbled.

"Crap," I mumbled as probably the fifteenth attempt fell apart in my hands. My brother was starting to try making a snowman, having noticed how much trouble I was having with snowballs. They were having better luck keeping the mounds of snow together, so eventually I gave up and began building my own snowman. Just as I turned around, though, a snowball hit me right in the back of my head. At first I was shocked, then I felt excitement bubble up. So, forgetting about my earlier failures, I grabbed a handful of snow, only packing it together briefly before throwing it at my brother. Somehow, it managed to stay together until it hit him in the head. After that, it was a full-on war, me against my brother and his two friends. This lasted a few hours, and by the end I could pump out snowballs like a machine, and I could barely feel my hands. At that point I cried out, "I surrender! You win!" and fell onto my back in the snow to regain my breath.

I heard the guys, instead of congratulating themselves on a victory in their first snowball fight, began a three-way snowball fight, but I ignored them, pushing myself into a more upright position as a cold breeze brushed past me. I hugged myself, hoping to keep warmer, then laughed to myself, "Well, you can't expect snow without Jack Frost," faintly remembering the old saying about Jack Frost nipping at your nose.

I was a very superstitious person, honestly. I'm already a teenager, and I still believe in Santa and the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. Some things I refused to believe, like Unicorns or Bigfoot. But Jack Frost was one of those few in-between kind of things. I didn't know whether to believe in him or not. However, that day would decide it for me. I guess I believed in him just enough for it to affect things.

Just then another gust of wind blew past me, but this time I though I saw a bluish blur fly past me. Instantly I jumped to my feet, glancing around at what it might've been. My brother was ignoring me now, returning to his half-finished, snowball-covered snowman. But I knew I had seen something, and right away my head rushed to some sort of fantasy creature. It turned later I was pretty close to the truth as I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, the same blue streak, and I snapped my head towards its direction. I only half-saw what it was, and it looked like a kid about my age. White hair, a dark blue jacket, and a strange wooden staff in his hand. It took my mind several seconds to jump to the conclusion it must be Jack Frost. There was no one that could fly in this neighborhood I'm pretty sure, and no other stories like the Tooth Fairy or Leprechauns seemed like they would fit the description. So I ran towards where it had disappeared, around the corner of our street.

I hesitated a bit before I reached the corner, wondering if I should even be doing this, then I shrugged my shoulders and peeked around the wall, my breath catching in my throat as I saw the blur clearly. Instantly I knew my guess was correct.

It was only a minute or two that he was there, and I wouldn't know what he had been doing if you asked me. I didn't pay any attention. Instead, all I could do was stare dully at him, shocked that my beliefs had been correct. If there was such thing as Jack Frost, then other fairytales must exist. Then he was gone, flying off in some direction, and when I told my family about it they didn't believe me. But I knew it was real.

That would lead to my eventual demise…

* * *

It was almost a year since I had seen Jack Frost, and it was autumn now. I had on my usual gray jacket again, jeans, and a t-shirt, my usual attire. It was a Saturday, so I had no school to worry about, thankfully, so my spent my day as I spent it every week since nine months ago – hunting for fairytales.

This time my hunt was in a small clump of trees a small walk from my house. I had a miniature backpack with me, mostly just to carry lunch, and then I was off. As soon as I reached it, I was on the alert, footsteps made as light as I could and every sense ready. I spent a couple of hours, wandering through this small clump of trees, spotting false alarm after false alarm. I had almost given up when I saw a flash of blue above me. Right away I slipped off my backpack and crouched down for a moment before jumping onto the tree. It was a very tall tree, though, so by the time I was halfway I was beginning to feel dizzy from the height. It wasn't until I reached the top, though, that I discovered another disadvantage to this tree.

It started with a soft buzzing in my ears, then a sharp pinch on my arm. I let out a muffled cry before looking at where the pain had come from. My eyes widened in fear as I saw the bee that had landed on my arm, as well as the others joining it. Instantly adrenaline began pumping through me, but I forced myself to remain calm and slowly reverse gears, climbing down the tree. I didn't notice where the bees were coming from, a hive I had narrowly missed on the way up but now hit with my foot on the way down. Suddenly the other bees were flying around me, and I was being stung repeatedly. Now the flight instinct kicked in, my adrenaline rushing at double-speed.

I scrambled down as quickly as I could as the swarm attacked me, but when I was most of the way down my foot slipped. I let out a scream as I lost my grip and tumbled to the ground, but thankfully I survived. I scrambled to my feet, abandoning my backpack as I tried to flee from the swarm. I soon realized, though, that the fall had done more than just knock the break out of me. I only made it a couple of steps before waves of pain shot up my leg and I crumpled to the ground. I struggled to get to my feet and limp away from the bees, but it just made it worse. The venom was running through me, and I already could feel the effects of so many stings. I wasn't even allergic, but I was dying.

Eventually I just gave up, remaining on the ground as the bees continued their assault. I barely registered the cold breeze that eventually chased them away, or the chilled touch of a stranger. I could not make out the face of the person that rolled me onto my back, and his words were just muffled echoes as my eyes closed and I slipped into oblivion…


	2. Chapter 1

**Okay, now I just want to say now, I am sorry for any and all OOCness of any of the ROTG characters in this FanFiction. I don't know if they will or won't have OOCness, but I'm not the best at following personality guidelines… Hehe… :3**

Chapter 1

No one had noticed my disappearance, knowing of my habits to wander on Saturdays. That is, until it was already nighttime, and by then it was far too late. I had long been gone, and all they found was my backpack and a patch of blood, a very faint patch of blood.

I had woken up a long time before then, brought from whatever I had slipped into by a strange voice whispering only two words. "Sparrow Fall…" It was similar to my name, but my last name was Hawke, not Fall… Nonetheless, the darkness began to lift as my eyes slowly flickered open. After several seconds of being unable to move, I was able to breath again, and as I scrambled to my feet the pain in my leg disappeared. At first I thought it must have been just a bad dream, but when I glanced around I realized it wasn't. I was in the forest still, and I could see the tree I had climbed, especially the beehive in the uppermost branches.

Was this just a continuation of a nightmare? Or had someone saved me? A sharp pinch to my forearm disproved the first option, though the latter was very possible as I recalled the mysterious person that I kind of saw before I blacked out. And as I did a quick glance around the clearing I was in, I faintly spotted someone sitting down with a blue hoodie…

"Jack Frost?" I questioned, cocking my head to the side, causing a spray of hair to fall in front of my widened eyes. I moved my hand to brush it away, but it froze as I realized the color was off. Instead of the normal dark brown, it was a ruddy scarlet, like half-dead fall leaves. "What the heck happened to my hair!?" I exclaimed, moving my hair from my eyes.

I heard laughing coming from the stranger as he stood up, leaning slightly on his staff. "I'm Jack Frost, if that's what you're wondering," he said to me as he watched me freak out over my random hair-color-change.

"Did you save me?" I asked, voice edged roughly with shock, lightly with fear, unsure whether to trust him or run from him. However, I pushed the worry over why my hair was different to the back of my mind. I hoped he would say yes, so that I wouldn't have to wonder what had happened anymore, but no such luck.

"Almost," he said, his joking expression fading. "I almost saved you, but when I showed up, it was too late…"

"Too late? Too late for what?" I asked, shock vanishing and fear beginning to swamp me. "Are you saying… I'm… dead!?"

"Technically," he said. "You did die, but the Man in the Moon seems to have chosen you to have a second chance."

I was rendered speechless at this. Man in the Moon? Second chance? Does that make me a reincarnation or something like that?

Jack seemed to have noticed my lack for words and so added, "I had been flying through to just bring a quick chill to this area when I had heard you and saw you fall from the tree. It didn't take long to figure out what had happened, so I had rushed to try to save you. By the time I got there, though, you had been hurt too much and there was nothing left to do to help…" He shrugged his shoulders as he finished, watching me for a reaction.

I quickly gave him one, asking, "But why did you stay? If there was nothing left to do to help me, why didn't you leave?"

"It's only been about fifteen minutes since you were attacked."

"Fifteen- What!? It can't have been that short!" I whispered, sinking down to sit on the ground again. "Fifteen minutes…" That was all I was able to choke out, prickles of pain starting again as I recalled the torture of the bees attacking me. I hugged myself, feeling as though the bees were crawling over me and stinging me again, and I whimpered softly in fear as the attack came back in vivid, painful flashes.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked me, noticing the pain reflecting in my eyes. All I did was glance dully at him for a moment before shaking it off and getting back to my feet.

"Fine," I mumbled, turning towards the tree where my bag still was. I brushed past him, shivering slightly from his low body temperature, then continued on. All my stuff was still in the bag when I reached it, but I only looked through it for a bit, not pulling anything out or planning on taking the bag with me. Once again I hugged myself, wondering what my family would think of my death. At least, until I felt something against my back.

There was a faint rustling sound as something touched my back and I jumped to my feet, whirling around. At first I wondered if it was Jack, but he seemed to have already left, and there was nothing behind me. Once again I felt it, and I realized it must be on my back, so I quickly pulled off my jacket and reached at my back under my shirt. My fingertips brushed against feathers and my mind ran through what kind of bird it could be and I instinctively pressed my back against the tree, hard enough to possibly scare it off but light enough so as not to possibly kill it, but all that happened was a jolt of pain shot through my back.

"Ow!" I turned around again, wondering what might be on my back. Then, growing frustrated and rationalizing that no one would see, I tore off my shirt and glanced over my shoulder. Now I knew why it wouldn't go no matter what I did.

A pair of dark brown wings spread out from my back, streaks of purple, orange, and white appearing on the feathers. All I could do was stare at them. "How did I grow wings!?" I asked myself, reaching one hand over my shoulder to touch one of them. They were quite small, but still very real as I could feel clearly each time I touched it. I had no idea how to use these, though!

It seemed, however, that though I personally had no experience in wings, my body still knew what to do as they began to move experimentally, lifting me an inch or two off the ground with each flap. Then suddenly I was in the air, rising quickly as these strange wings lifted me higher and higher. But I stopped it when I was only a few meters off the ground, and I landed carefully in the tree's branches.

I climbed the rest of the way down and then began digging through my backpack for something sharp. Unfortunately, though, the sharpest thing was a pencil. But when I looked around, it was not long before I found a discarded glass bottle that I hit against the ground, successfully breaking the bottom off, though not without cutting myself with some of the shards that flew off it. I ignored it, though, as I set to work cutting holes in the back of my shirt. After that was done I dropped the bottle and went back to the tree.

I slowly pulled my shirt back over my head, hoping I had put the holes in the right place. Thankfully, as I tugged the hem down to my hips, the wings slid easily into the slits I had made. I picked up my jacket and tied it firmly around my waist like I often did when I wasn't wearing it, then let my wings lift me into the air again, rising above the tree line. I hoped to spot Jack, since he seemed to know what had happened to me, but he was nowhere to be found. So I chose a random direction and flew off, hoping to eventually find him.

* * *

I flew as straight as I could for several hours, until my wings ached and my stomach felt hollow. But no sign of Jack Frost. I had a feeling he had probably gone the other way with my luck, so I landed on a roof to catch my breath. The sun was beginning to go down and it was getting difficult to see, so I began to doze off, my wings tucking against my back. But just before I was able to actually sleep, I heard someone nearby.

"Who might this be? A lost little child?"

I could hear footsteps approaching me, and I opened my eyes just enough to see who it was. I didn't recognize him at all and felt a twinge of fear as he got closer. Before he was even three feet away from me I sprang to my feet, spreading out my wings and edging away from him. All he did was laugh at me.

"I see you're no child. A spirit, probably a young one," he said, mostly to himself.

"What does it matter to you?" I asked him, curling my hands into fists.

"Do you not know who I am?" he questioned.

"Nor do I care," I snapped back, trying to hide my fear. I felt something off about him and didn't like it at all. I prepared myself to take off at a moment's notice, but he seemed to notice this and something suddenly shot towards me. I didn't notice until it hit me, knocking the breath out of me and myself off the roof. Thankfully my wings snapped open, preventing me from tumbling to the ground and letting me perch on another one, but then my whole body stiffened as I felt a jolt of fear.

There was no cause for it as far as I knew – I was nowhere near any of my fears that I know of – but then I caught sight of the stranger's smile and realized he must've done something to me. The edges of my vision darkened and my breath grew quick and ragged. My heart was racing, my eyes darting back and forth. I imagined some strange creature leaping from the shadows to end me…

"A fear of the dark? How simple to exploit," he mocked as I backed away from him. "But there's more. I can sense an even deeper fear hiding inside you…" Then suddenly I once again felt tingling across my skin, the prick of a thousand tiny stingers, the slow fade of everything in my last moments. "Death… Unusual for one that's already passed." I glared at him, despite the waves of fear and imagined pain jolting up and down my spine. Then another strange object shot towards me. This time I noticed it, though, but all I could do was flinch away, raising my arm up as if that would do something. And it seemed it did as I felt a sudden, intense heat appear around me.

My eyes flew open as I stared in shock at the wall of flames between this stranger and me. I could not look at it for long as it was bright, but it seemed to have stopped the projectile. Fear still pulsed through me, and the flames wavered with every shock of it. As soon as I relaxed as much as I could, the fire disappeared. Then, without warning, a barrage of dark creature attacked. Once again I summoned the fire, this time throwing it at them, but I quickly realized I couldn't hold it up for long.

The more I used this strange power, the less fear I felt, but the weaker I became. I continued my defense, but each fireball was smaller and less effective until I could only summon the smallest of sparks. I tried to escape by the skies, but that ended in failure. I glanced over my shoulder for only a moment to make sure I was far enough from the monsters, and I realized the stranger was no longer on the rooftop a moment before someone grabbed me by the throat. My head snapped forewords to face him and my wings continued to beat furiously against the air, but his grip was too strong. I tried to wrench his hand from my neck, but it was futile. He was too strong. I felt a heavy dizziness as it became harder and harder to breath, and my struggles grew weaker and weaker. The last thing I heard was him sneer, "I am your worst nightmare," before I blacked out.


End file.
